Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life
by Eamon Gallagher
Summary: An interesting concept that ties the world of Harvest Moon in with the real world, this story follows the main character, Mark, from Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life as he struggles to make a life in Forget-Me-Not Valley. Rated T for mild language later on.


Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life

**Synopsis**

This is a fanfiction of Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life…kinda. The idea of this one is that it ties Harvest Moon into the real world. The main character is named Mark McCann, an immigrant from Ireland, who has just moved to Forget-Me-Not Valley, a small coastal village in Massachusetts, in 1915. He has recently inherited a farm from his late father, Joseph McCann. However when he arrives, he finds that some of the people in the town don't take a liking to the Irish. He is about ready to give up and return to Ireland until a certain young woman comes into the picture.

**Chapter 1: Welcome to Forget-Me-Not, Massachusetts**

_March 13, 1915_

_Although I've been on this earth for 21 years now, my story doesn't begin until now. My name is Mark McCann. I was born in Athenry, Ireland. For 21 years I called this place home. But only last year, my life began to change. With the outbreak of the World War, the British began to draft young men to send to the trenches of France. My father refused to join the fight and sailed to America. We heard that he settled in a little place called Forget-Me-Not Valley and started a farm. He planned to raise enough money to bring the rest of us to the New World, but he never achieved his plan. He has just passed away and now his dream falls to me. Come morning, I'll be boarding a ship to America to finish what me father started. _

It was late winter when a young man named Mark McCann boarded a ship bound for the United States. A look of sorrow came to his eyes as he looked his last upon the Emerald Isle that had been his home for 21 years. He was born and raised in the town of Athenry in County Galway, Ireland. He had so many friends to leave behind, but he was told over and over that he would have a better life in America. His father, Joseph McCann, had just passed away and had left the farm that he started in America to his son. And now, Mark was on a ship bound for Forget-Me-Not Valley, Massachusetts. It was a small town, much smaller than Athenry, by the coast and he was told that it was a very nice place to live. But still, Mark couldn't help but feel a sense of fear. He would be forced to start a completely new life in a strange country. Three days later, on March 17, 1915, St. Patrick's Day, the Statue of Liberty came into sight. The ship had reached New York City. The ship docked at Ellis Island and Mark stepped off the ship. He went through registration without a single flaw and boarded a ship to the Manhattan Island. As he was nearing the island, he said a quick prayer to St. Patrick, patron saint of Ireland: "St. Patrick, be with me through these hard times. Help me to keep the Lord in my heart and help me remember the Holy Trinity. In Christ's name, I pray. Amen." The ferry landed and Mark spent some time trying to get a ride to Massachusetts. He managed to flag a car down.

"So where are you headed?" the driver asked.

"I'm headed to Forget-Me-Not Valley in Massachusetts." Mark replied in his Irish accent.

"Well, I'm headed for Mineral Town. It's only a few minutes' walk from Forget-Me-Not. I can give you a ride if you want."

"Thank you."

Mark climbed into the car and they were off.

"So you're from Ireland?" the driver asked.

"Aye, I grew up in Athenry."

"So what brings you to America?"

"Well, me father just passed away and he left me a farm in his will. I'm goin' to Forget-Me-Not to take care of it."

"Sounds nice. I've been in that village once and I think it's pretty nice. Good luck."

"Thank you, sir? How long is it to Massachusetts?"

"About a day. We'll be there pretty late. I hope that's not too much of an inconvenience."

"I can't complain. It's better than walking. And taking care of this farm is better than what I had in store for me in Ireland."

"What's that."

"The British are looking for recruits to send to France to help them in the World War."

"Ah. I don't think anyone wants to get involved in that."

The sun set below the horizon and Mark began to doze off and eventually fell asleep. He was awakened at about 11:00 by the driver.

"We're here. We've made it to Mineral Town. Forget-Me-Not Valley is only twenty minutes away by foot. There's a hotel not far from here if you wanna rest for the night. You've got money, right?"

"Aye, I have about twenty-five dollars. Is that enough?"

"That's more than enough. Well, I should be on my way. Welcome to America. If you don't mind, I don't believe I caught your name."

"My name's Mark McCann."

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Mark."

"Thank you for your help sir." The two shook hands and Mark made his way to the hotel. He spent one night there before heading for Forget-Me-Not Valley. As he came down the hill from Mineral Town, there was a man standing at the bottom of the hill. He was in his fifties and he was wearing a white shirt and had a white towel around his neck.

"Your Mark, aren't you? Joe's son?" the old man said

"Aye." Mark replied.

"I thought so. You look just like him. My name is Takakura. I used to work with your father on the farm. Follow me."

Mark followed the old man past another farm, across a bridge over a river and to a hill leading onto his new property.

"Well, this is it. It's a bit run down but I'm confident that you can get it up and running again. Do you know anything about farming?"

Mark looked at Takakura and shook his head. "I don't know very much. I know the basics but I don't know if I know enough."

"Well that's why I'm here. If you need any help, just let me know."

"Thank you."

"Now I've started you out with a cow for milk and there's a milker for you in the shed, along with a few other tools you'll need. You'll have to think of a name for your cow."

"Well, we had a cow back in Athenry and we named her Bessy. I think that name will work."

"Alright. Oh, your father also left you 3,000 dollars to start you off. Spend it wisely. There's a farm across the bridge that sells seeds. The people working on that farm were friends of your father and he spoke a lot about you. I'm sure they would be happy to help the son of old Joe."

"Thank you, Takakura."

"Well the farm is pretty basic. You have your house, the barn, food storage, chicken coop and fields. So I think that's it. You must be tired. You can start work tomorrow. Welcome to America."

Mark entered his new house to see a stove, bed and radio. He dropped his suitcase and began to ponder what he was going to do in the States. He didn't know very much about farming. He knew about how to raise livestock, but almost nothing about crops. As he was thinking, he looked over at the desk where the radio was and saw a piece of paper with his name on it. he opened it and saw that it was a letter from his father.

_Son, by the time you read this I will have passed away. I'm so sorry that I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to you, but I want to tell you that these years of being your father have been the best of me life. You've grown to become a fine young man and I wouldn't trade you for all the gold in the world. I understand that this move was difficult for you and I want you to know that I am so proud of you. I want you to be happy here so there are a few friends that I would like you to meet. They live on the farm neighboring ours. When I was here I spoke of you all the time. I'm sure that they would be happy to meet you. And, though it may not be any of me business, I should mention that there is a fair young woman working there. So, my boy, it would seem as this is good-bye. I'm sorry to leave you but I promise you that I will be watching over you from God's kingdom. Good-bye, Mark. I love you, son._

Mark set down the letter as tears came to his eyes. After he collected himself, he decided to take a walk around the village. The first place he decided to go was the farm on the other side of the river. As he neared, he saw a young woman, about a year younger than he was, out tending the field. She had beautiful, nut-brown hair, a yellow bandana on her head, a yellow plaid apron over her dress and brown Venetian shoes. She looked around and saw Mark by the fence. She beamed a friendly smile which Mark returned.

"Are you Mark McCann?" the young woman asked.

"Aye. How did you know?" Mark replied.

"I knew your dad, Joseph McCann. He used to talk about you all the time. I'm so sorry for your loss. He was a good man."

Mark smiled at the young woman. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome. Oh, I'm sorry, my name's Celia."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. Are you here to see Vesta, my boss? She sells seeds here."

"Well, I'm not here to buy seeds. At least not yet." Celia giggled at the remark. "However, if you don't mind, I would very much like to meet Vesta."

"Alright. Wait there just a minute and I'll go get her." Celia ran off to get her boss. As Mark was looking at the fields, Mark noticed a man of about twenty-three years old glaring at him.

"You're the new guy aren't you? The Irishman?" he said in a bit of a cold voice.

"Aye."

"Just a warning. Around here it's best for Irishmen to watch their step, especially around the girls. Got it?"

"Alright then." Mark replied with a bit of a puzzled voice.

"That's enough, Marlin! Leave the boy alone." A large, red-headed woman said. "So you're Joseph's boy, are you? Well, welcome to Massachusetts. Don't mind my brother here. You're perfectly welcome here."

"Thank you very much. You're Vesta?"

"That's right. If you need anything as far as crops or seeds, just let me know and I'd be happy to oblige. I take it you've already met Celia."

"That's correct."

"Well, maybe Celia would be happy to give you a tour around the village." Mark noticed that Celia was blushing.

"I'd be happy to show you the village."

"I appreciate that. Thank you. I don't think I'll be buying any seeds today but if you don't mind, I'd like to know which plants would be best for spring here. Seein' as how the climate here is a bit different from that of Ireland, I'd like to know what I'm getting myself into."

"Of course. I'd say the best plants would be tomatoes, watermelons, strawberries and potatoes."

"Hmm, most of that grows well in Ireland at this time of year. However, I don't think strawberries grow very well in Ireland at this time. But like I said the climate is different."

Vesta grinned at the fact that this young man knew at least a little about farming. "Well Celia, why don't you show young Mark around town." Celia smiled and blushed as Vesta gave her a little push and she and Mark went on their way. "Don't stay out too late, you two."

"Vesta!" Celia said in an embarrassed tone. As the two walked on, Vesta noticed that Marlin was scowling at Mark and she slapped him upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Show a little kindness to that boy! It's bad enough that he left his home and his family! He doesn't need you to ridicule him! Besides, he didn't have to come here in the first place!"

"Yeah, I'll say." Vesta then slapped him again.

"Marlin! He's a good young man. He came here so he could support his family in Ireland. I'm sure he's a very good youth. He actually reminds me of his dad."

Marlin rubbed the back of his head. "Fine, but he better watch it around…"

"Around what?"

"…Around this farm. We don't need competition."

Meanwhile, Celia was taking Mark into the Inner Inn, a hotel owned by some other friends of Joseph. There was a man standing behind the counter. He was an Asian man in his thirties and was quite large. He beamed a great smile as he saw Mark.

"Ah, you must be Mark McCann! Welcome. My name is Tim. My wife, Ruby, is in the kitchen."

As Tim was talking, a blonde haired young man came down the stairs. He looked over at Mark who was standing with Celia.

"Is this the Irishman?"

"Ah, Rock. You slept in quite late. Come and meet Joseph McCann's son."

"Later. I don't feel comfortable shaking hands with a foreigner." Rock said and left the building.

"That was my son, Rock. Sorry for his bad behavior. He's beginning to worry my wife and me."

"Don't worry. I'll shrug it off."

"Ah, are you Mark?" a soft voice said. Mark and Celia looked over to see Tim's wife, Ruby, standing in the doorway.

"Aye. I'm Mark McCann."

"My goodness, you look just like your father. Welcome to Forget-Me-Not."

"Thank you ma'am."

After they were finished visiting with Tim and Ruby, Celia took Mark to visit some of the others in town. There were many who openly welcomed Mark to America but at the same time, there were some who openly admitted to not appreciating the fact that he was Irish. Celia kept reassuring Mark and telling him that she thought that what he was doing for his family was very brave, leaving his homeland to help support them.

"Well, even if those people don't like you, I want you to know that I'll still be a friend to you." Celia said to the young Irishman. Mark looked into her eyes and smiled. As they reached the bridge, Celia gave Mark a quick hug before heading back to her farm. Mark retired to his farmhouse for the night, thoughts of the young woman lingering in his head.


End file.
